Team REPR
by Puppeteer of the Realms
Summary: It's the turn of the semester and the students are returning from winter break. However, during a special assembly, Professor Ozpin announces a new team of hunters. A team of what he calls 'the best of the best,' yet not one of the students, or teachers, have ever heard of them or seen their faces. Until now. This is a collaboration between Relks the Disturbed and myself.
1. Prologue

A/N: Hello RWBY community! It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, as I am here to share with you my third tale of intrigue, and my first tale to be spun in the RWBY-verse.

Awhile back, when RWBY was still only at episode 7, my friends decided to start an RP and invited me along for the ride. Ever since then, I've been spawning little bits of fantasy here and there. Eventually, those fragments clumped together and gave me some (I would like to think) interesting story ideas.

Though I'm hoping this will be well-received, I'm hesitant to let my ego roam unchecked. As I always say, please give me your criticism. I may be my own worst critic, but I am only one person with one pair of eyes so please, if you find something flawed with _any _part of my story, leave some constructive criticism, guilt free. C'mon, tear it apart if you have to, I can take it. After all, it's all in good fun. Enjoy!

Thank you for your time, and thank you for reading my third tale of intrigue!  
See you on the other side~

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**Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own RWBY. The series and affiliated copyrights go to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth.**

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The night sky shone with dull brilliance, astral formations silently guiding informed travelers home, and framing the world with their muted platinum embrace. The shattered moon hangs delicately in its lofty orbit, tirelessly clinging to its fragmented form with every ounce of gravity the fragile sphere can muster. A cool breeze carried with it the whispers of silence. Remnant is truly a beautiful, yet dangerous, contradiction. At least, it was beautiful to one hunter-in-training.

Atop the pinnacle of the magnificent spire at the heart of Beacon sat the boy in question, deep in thoughts of doubt and trepidation. Against the glowing moonlight, his figure was silhouetted; a black smudge among the glowing green spheres adorning the spire. He sat with a foot hanging over the edge, and his other knee hugged close to his chest. Not a single thought of falling could steal his attention away from his nervous itch. Today was the day.

Today was _the _day!

A fresh wave of nausea washed over young Vladimir as he worried himself into a mental trench. "Eeugh.." he meekly groaned into his knee as he tried soothing his stomach by rubbing his belly. To prying eyes, Vlad was a sight to behold: clad in a full-body jet-black trench coat donned with a hood. The cloak was tailor made especially for him, the sleek black cloth wrapped to a form fit on his torso. The left sleeve of the cloak was very loose, baggy cloth that billowed and flowed like the smoothest of silk and stretched to almost three inches past his finger-tips. Underneath the massive cloak, he wore a supportive body-suit: a hyper modern second skin of sorts to support his flexibility and shock absorbance. On his right arm, the forearm and bicep were wrapped in black bandages and belts. The cloak was topped off with a decorative, almost ceremonial looking hood which now lay draped behind his head.

Vladimir's skin was so pale as to rival that of Blake Belladonna, or even of Weiss Schnee's skin tone in its absence of pigmentation. His raven tinted hair almost stretched past his eyes, but stopped a mere half-inch from concealing the cerulean irises, framing his handsome, almost feminine face, but failing to hide the most identifiable mark on his being: the massive scar stretching from the hair-line of his left temple over his left eye, cheek, the corner of his lips, and down his neck to stop a nearly fatal inch away from his jugular vein. A gruesome wound, however healed it was, with a morbid story to tell.

With his eyes closed, he heard quiet, but deliberate footsteps approaching him from behind. Vlad felt the shingles in the immediate area shudder and stress with each movement as the arrival took a seat to his left, dangling their feet from the lofty perch along with him.

"You can't hide up here all night, you know," a kind, warm female voice spoke. Vlad couldn't help but smile, his eyes still closed. It was Natasha: one of an extremely select few people he trusted unconditionally.

"I know that," Vlad whispered while opening his eyes. Off on the distant horizon, a small pocket of radiant yellow sunlight dared to paint the underside of whatever cloud dared to wander the night sky. It was almost time, soon the rest of the students would wake and the first day of the rest of his life would be under way.

Natasha slowly leaned and bumped Vlad's shoulder with her own, "Ozpin is waiting with the others, you should get ready." After a few minutes of enjoying the scene, she carefully stood and climbed back down to the ballroom in the top of Beacon's spire.

Vlad wasn't entirely excited for what was to come, but he wasn't so incredibly worried anymore. _A few more minutes can't hurt, _he thought with a smile as the sun peaked over the horizon.

* * *

It was only 6 am in the RWBY dorm when the team's leader was rather abruptly torn from sleep by her agitated partner. "Ruby, WAKE UP!" Weiss bellowed as she lifted the sheet draped over Ruby's bed to rouse the scarlet haired teenager from her slumber.

"AH! What?! I'm awake, I'm awake! What's going on?!" Ruby blurted as she frantically swung her arms to (somehow) free herself from the clutches of a... magazine? _Riight, I guess I fell asleep reading the latest Weapons Magazine... _Quickly, and admittedly clumsily, Ruby squared away the magazine under her mattress and directed her full, albeit drowsy, attention to the white heiress. "Is something wrong?" she asked as she numbly rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Weiss gave a somewhat disappointed look to the girl as she rested her hands on her hips, "Don't you remember? There's an assembly to address the new arrivals this semester at 7."

Frustrated groans could be heard in the halls not only from team RWBY's dorm, but from the majority of the dorms on the entire floor. No one wanted to be up two hours earlier than they had to.

"Fine fine, whatever..." the scarlet scythe-wielder conceded as she and her teammates readied themselves for the boring speech surely to follow.

Not one student in Beacon knew how mistaken they would be should they expect to be bored.

* * *

Half an hour passed as the newly arriving students were directed to stand among the rest of the student body. The students settled and resumed their apathetic boredom as Professor Ozpin stood and surveyed the crowd. After a few moments of silence, he broke it.

"Young hunters and huntresses, in light of recent events-" he paused for a moment, glaring into his reflection cast in his ever-present coffee mug, "it has come to my attention that certain, _individuals _have been taking unnecessary liberties here in Vale. We have enjoyed an incredible period of peace over the past years, and I fear that soon, that peace will begin to falter. With that in mind, I have taken this chance to put certain precautions into effect here at the Academy, to help protect the student body and the public at large."

Professor Ozpin paused, stretching out the silence as hushed conversations started to sprout in isolated pockets of the crowd. Soon, nearly all of the students and even members of the faculty were hashing out the details of what Ozpin announced.

"With both pride, and trepidation, I would like to bring four of Beacon's brightest, most elite students to join me on the stage." As he spoke and gestured behind him, the hushed dialogue died down once again as the four in question took the stage near Professor Ozpin.

The four of them looked very out of place: all four were covered in black, and highlighted with a secondary color. All of them, that is, except for Vladimir, who now wore his hood up and donned a white, featureless mask with no mouth or nose. Only two circular eye-holes, too dark to peer into, marred the smooth surface of the mask. Among the other three stood Natasha, who was the tallest of them all. She wore a blue button-up vest over a black, long sleeved dress shirt with a black tie. Her long black hair was almost unnaturally straight and flowed down her shoulders and back underneath the stylish black beret she wore. In contrast to her dress shirt and vest, she wore baggy black fatigues that tucked into tall black combat boots with shining steel caps on the toes.

On the far left, stood a very proud looking man with slicked back crimson hair, and dressed in a very noble looking black cloak trimmed with intricate details in red stitching. Unlike Vladimir, this man's coat stopped at his neck by wrapping around his throat to a form fit. On the middle right stood an almost polar opposite girl to the man on the left. She was intimidating, to say the least, dressed in a midriff gray shirt and black leather jacket, covered in crisscrossing leather straps covered in places by small buckles of white metal. Her long black hair also contrasted to Natasha, billowing and flaring out in sleight waves down her shoulders and back. She wore a silver and black belt with simple black jeans and sneakers.

Ozpin took a position near the red haired man and began the introductions. "Roan Ashworth, Vladimir Ebon, Melania Pearl, and Natasha Raven comprise team REPR, and will personally act as my elite team tasked with keeping Beacon a safe haven. From now on, they will be living on the campus and attending class with the rest of their first-year classmates."

Teams RWBY and JNPR gasped in unison. _They're only first-year students?! They look like they are fully-fledged hunters! _Ruby thought as she started getting all giddy with excitement to meet team REPR. She thought it would be like meeting rock-stars, but little did she know, team REPR only made the majority of the students at Beacon paranoid.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed my little teaser :P

I almost forgot to give credit where credit is due to my friend Relks the Disturbed, after all, he owns two of the four OCs in the story, being Roan and Melania. I'm not sure how far I'm going to go with this story, to be honest. I might just play around with little events at the school until more information about the next season hits the net, so no promises on being able to regularly post on this story. That does not mean, however, that I plan to abandon it. Quite the opposite, I just have to figure out _where_ I am going to take the plot.

Thanks again for reading!


	2. Humble Beginnings

A/N: So literally as I start to write this new chapter, my partner-in-crime Relks and I just had a good little chuckle over a minor oversight: we forgot about the character Melanie when he created Melania a month or so back. In an attempt to clear up any possible confusion between the two, I will clarify that the 'a' in Melania is not silent, making the phonetics of the name to be Mel-uh-nee-uh; four syllables instead of three like Melanie. We even joked around by having the canon character meet the OC and have a little dispute over the similarities in names, but vast contrast in personality. (this isn't an allusion to a possible encounter with the twins, I literally haven't factored in about 60% of the RWBY-verse as of yet, it's just a thought)

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**Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own RWBY. The series and affiliated copyrights go to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth.**

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Tonight, the same as that night so far from now, peace and tranquility seemed to envelope Remnant on a warm Summer evening as the sun made the long trek to drop below the horizon. Now, however, the whispers of silence dared to speak. Summer began to burn the remaining fumes of light and warmth as the chilly breezes and crunchy leaves of Fall started to ever-so-subtly take hold of the amazing world of Remnant.

Vlad wasn't very good at dealing with people, he'd always preferred to spend his free time reading, or taking in the majesty that is the planet they live on. Dealing with people was too.. personal, too intimate. Nature was pure, unbiased, and above all else it was beautiful. He sat on the railings of a second story balcony at his childhood home, an orphanage near the outer reaches of Vale, watching the tree line at the edge of the property as the great oaks swayed in the wind.

Ever since he had lost his parents, Vlad was moved from one orphanage to another, never staying in one place for too long. The truth of the matter was that he did not mind being alone, he just didn't want to be with another family just to lose them again. No, his wounds had healed, but he was still so young, too inexperienced to deal with that pain again. The worst kind of pain, abandonment. Although he had never voiced this concern, his caretaker, Luka, had always known of his hardships.

Being in the program for a full four years, Vladimir was given his own private room whenever he moved to a new compound. After his eleventh birthday, Luka came to his room one night, bringing with her an old friend to introduce to the young boy. You see, Luka was a retired Huntress, and a graduate from Beacon Academy. Vlad may not have noticed it himself, but Luka did, with new-found hope in her heart. Ever since the tragic separation from his family, his Aura was unlocked and left unchecked. It became noticeable sometimes when he was spaced out as he was now, enjoying what little happiness he could find in solitude. An Aura as black as night, it wreathed him in shadow, but only subtly, making it hard to focus on him. It was like looking at him while his Aura was active was akin to a mirage.

The night she brought the visitor, she asked how much Vlad knew about the Grimm, and Hunters. To her surprise, he knew a fair amount of the little-known details of the creatures of Grimm, although his knowledge of the Hunters and Huntresses was somewhat limited. The stranger stepped forward and took a seat on the bed next to the pale boy, "Vladimir, your friend has told me about your family," the man paused, noticing Vlad withdraw some and start to twiddle his thumbs. He knew the boy didn't like to think back to them, but he was driving a point home which needed Vlad to remember the loss, "What would you say, if we could help you make it so no one ever has to deal with that kind of loss, ever again."

Vlad's eyes shot up from the floor, widening at the suggestion. He didn't look at Luka or the stranger, but rather looked at the wall in disbelief. _Me? Save people? _Slowly, his gaze slid off the wall to rest on the stranger's face. He didn't speak, he only gave a pleading expression as his nervous fidgeting stopped dead.

The man smiled, and offered his hand to Vlad, "My name is Qrow, it's nice to meet you Vladimir."

Since that day, Vlad never saw Qrow again, but he would meet with a multitude of combat instructors of varying style, all masters in their art. He wasn't taught every single style of fighting, or to be a master at everything, far from it. They taught Vladimir to master his skill, and hone both his Aura and his Semblance. When his instructor at the time got to Semblances, however, there was an abrupt pause in his routine schedule with the weekly sessions. That is why he sat on the railing now, enjoying the peace and quiet. He was simply bored.

The only others in the orphanage at that moment was Luka and a voice he didn't recognize in the massive living room downstairs. All of the other children and caretakers were on a trip to see a show in Vale. It was incredibly rare for Vlad to be afforded this much needed downtime, so while his thoughts drifted in an out, he couldn't help but feel curious why his training had suddenly stopped. As if on queue, Luka's voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs, "Vladimir! Can you come down here?"

Heeding the call, he spun on the rail to get his feet on the ground and walk back inside. He descended two steps down the staircase and a knot of nervous tension settled in his stomach. He reached the bottom of the steps and regarded the dull-silver haired man with a mask of poise and confidence. It was the most he could do to offset his meek stature and the large scar on the left half of his face. The scar itself started as an inch wide, pinkish streak of skin from his hairline where it snaked a path down to his eye, covering almost all of the top and bottom eyelid. If one were to look closely, they would observe an incredibly minute difference in the color of his two eyes. As the scar passed the eye, it began to narrow and resemble torn paper with jagged edges as it traced the left-most part of his mouth and chin where it began to thin to a pinpoint between his Adam's apple and jugular vein. The wound did not disfigure the anatomy of his face, but the mark was still there, and it always would be.

Luka sat in one of the plush vinyl chairs as the mystery man Vlad was apparently next to meet stood in the exact center of the room. He watched Vladimir descend the final steps through circular black glasses, covering dusty-golden irises. He was dressed in an expensive black suit with a green vest and matching scarf. Both of his hands rested on the handle of his cane propped up on the ground in front of him. Vlad saw infinitely more about the man than just the way he dressed. He had an air of knowledge about him, without a doubt, he knew far too many dangerous secrets than Vlad would ever care to be bothered counting. He just screamed intimidation, but at the same time trustworthiness. _How can he contradict himself so profoundly?_ Vlad thought as his poker face slipped for just a moment, squinting one of his eyes in curiosity. The young boy immediately stuffed the expression and stood at attention. He'd be damned if someone expected him to break the ice between himself and someone so profound.

"Hello Vladimir, do you know who I am?" The man gave away zero indication to his intentions in the slightest, but Vlad got an uncanny feeling that he somehow knew the answer to his question.

_Something.. with an O? Oz.. Ozpin. Ozpin? How- _"Your name is Ozpin, isn't it?" Vlad answered to quickly cut off his own train of thought. He now made no attempt to hide the confusion and curiosity on his face.

The man, evidently known as 'Ozpin', smiled and nodded his affirmation. "How much do you know about me?"

Just like the first time he spoke, Vlad got another deep down kind of knowing-the-answer-by-instinct feeling. He ignored the feeling and answered like he hadn't noticed. "I don't know anything about you.." he finally answered. Even he had to admit, his voice was so shaky that a dog would be able to tell that was a lie.

Ozpin pushed his glasses slightly up the bridge of his nose then placed his hand back onto the cane, utterly calm even though Vlad was losing his grip on the situation entirely. "Now, you and I both know you're reading me like a book right now," he said as he cracked a small, kind smile.

"I-I..." Vlad reached a hand to scratch the back of his head as a bead of sweat dripped down his jaw. "Y-yes.. I am. You're green, you're intently curious, and you're-.." he paused for a moment as Ozpin's color slightly changed, "-you're, looking at my scar?" The sudden shift in what Vlad saw as someone's 'color' made him subconsciously touch his hand to the bottom of the scar on his chin. He was about to continue reciting what he saw in Ozpin's color when he held up a hand to stop him.

"Vladimir, you have an incredible ability. Although, I can't imagine how hard it must be, having intimate knowledge of people's emotions from face-value." Ozpin approached Vlad and knelt down to eye level, placing a hand on his shoulder in the process. "I can teach you to control it, and if you want to, I can help you to become one of the greatest Hunters Vale has ever known."

In any other situation like this, Vlad would likely refuse. But now, Ozpin was practically wearing his heart on his shoulder, making his Aura convey the truth of his words. After living with his curse of Empathy, Vlad found a grain of absolute truth: your color never lies. His gaze grew fierce, and any remaining doubt evaporated from his being. "I'll do it."

Ozpin's smile grew and he stood to his full height, towering over the young man. "Pack your things, I will send for you in the morning." With that, Ozpin spun on his heel and left, without another word. Luka, who remained quiet through the entire encounter, quickly rushed to Vlad and picked him up in a tight hug.

"I'm so happy for you!" the older Huntress praised as she spun with Vlad in her arms. Luka was in her late twenties, and dressed in an almost oriental robe with her hair held in a styled bun by two long decorative pins.

"Luka!" Vlad managed to voice through strained breathing. His face was cherry red given the fact that Luka, being much taller than him, picked him up and almost burying his face in her chest. "C'mon!"

She sat the blushing boy down and knelt to eye level as Ozpin did, "You have to promise you'll come back and visit, if not for the other kids, then for me, ok?"

"I will," Vlad responded with a sheepish smile while his cheeks remained flushed, "Promise." Luka was the closest thing he had to a mother over the past four years, so he would definitely keep that promise.

"Alright," Luka began as she stood again, "follow me." She led Vlad to the storeroom made to carry the the massive amount of food to sustain so many people at once, and pushed on one of the boards on the back wall of the room. A mechanical click could be heard and she pulled a door made of the boards free from the wall on hinges. The door revealed a compartment with a tall case and a duffel bag which she handed to Vlad. "You'll need these."

* * *

The next morning, Vlad stood in the gravel drive that lead to the main road leading West toward Vale now wearing his hooded cloak, a farewell gift from Luka. He had a backpack stuffed with what little personal belongings he had collected over the years, and a large duffel full of spare clothing. He would be living at Beacon of all places, and although he had moved from place to place many times before, never had one of them been so large, so populated, or for that matter, so famous.

With the duffel slung over his right shoulder, he held the handle of the large metal case in his left hand. It was only seven in the morning, a chalky overcast cloud cover coated the sky. A bad omen to most, a reflection of trepidation for the young Hunter-in-training. In the distance, the echo of a rumbling engine could be heard winding its way through the trees of the countryside. Moments later, a black sedan emerged from the tree line and approached. The car slowed and turned to present the two right-hand doors to Vlad. The driver stepped out from the vehicle and walked to the back and open the trunk, where he took Vlad's bags and placed them carefully into the compartment. As the professionally dressed man reached for the large metal case in his hand, Vlad pulled back and gave him a suspicious look from underneath the edge of his hood. "I'll hang on to this, if you don't mind."

"As you wish," the man responded in kind, but not sarcasm. People's colors may not be able to lie, but it was much harder to read someone's Aura when they had not been trained to unlock it. Trying to read a random passerby was like trying to read the words on the bottom of a pool, it was blurry and unrefined. It made Vlad very distrustful and nervous around strangers. The driver took his seat behind the wheel, and Vlad took his in the back right seat, sitting the case in the floorboard to his left and rested it against the back seat itself. Before the car started moving, the driver turned and handed Vlad a rectangular pad, "Professor Ozpin left you instructions on here."

After taking the pad and pulling the sides to reveal a transparent display, Vlad was also handed a small wireless ear-bud. He tilted his head as he slid the headphone into his right ear, then he queued the audio file on the pad to play. The driver shifted the car into gear and they departed in silence. Vlad paused the file and took one last glimpse to the estate behind them. He didn't have any friends there to speak of, but there was still Luka, and it was stable. Only time would tell if he would miss it or not.

The drive to the airship dock in Vale took the better part of an hour, which gave Vlad the time to listen to the recorded message of Ozpin as he told him what he should expect. What surprised him most, was how secretive Ozpin was being with the whole situation. While the recording played, several resources for reference to the school were displayed in order as the Professor's voice got to them. From what he was being told, Ozpin wanted Vlad to _infiltrate _Beacon Academy. Today was the very first day of the school year and the faculty was already there, waiting for the new and returning students to arrive for the initiation ceremony. With all this happening, the Professor expected him to gain entry into Beacon by any means necessary, without being seen by a living soul.

Vlad wasn't one to back down from a challenge, so he smiled as the instructions concluded. He closed the pad and slipped it into his pants pocket as he looked out the window. The sun broke through the oppressive cloud cover and illuminated all of Beacon Academy on the distant horizon. _He wants to give me a challenge, huh?_

The driver spoke again, breaking the silence, "I was told not to inquire of your actions, but I am to inform you that you need not worry about your belongings. They will be waiting for you inside."

Before he opened the door, Vlad finally opened the case next to him, to reveal the staff and wicked blade of a traditional scythe. He stepped out and attached the massive, deadly blade head to the top of the curved staff. As if nothing was out of place, the driver drove off toward downtown Vale as Vlad closed the door with the case still inside, leaving the hooded Hunter to go about his first assignment.

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Making his way to the cliff upon which Beacon sat didn't prove difficult, he simply hitched a ride on top of an airship. Immediately upon touchdown, Vlad leaped clear of the floating ship and started darting between trees, benches, pillars, anything that would hide him from the front of the Academy. He brought his Aura to life, completely covering him in living shadows, making it nigh on impossible for anyone watching to keep track of him as he ghosted between hard cover. It only took a matter of minutes for him to get to the center of the massive campus, where the real hard part began: finding Ozpin's office from the outside.

Practically gliding through the air on deft movements, he kept to the rooftops as much as possible. Eventually, he found the office to learn that the window was already unlocked. Vlad quickly opened it, fluttered inside like a feather at high speed, and promptly closed it with one hand as he carefully maneuvered his scythe from hitting any obstructions. He planted the base of the staff firmly on the rug in the office and heavily leaned into it for support. He was feeling much more exhausted than he had expected to, and his head was buzzing with a hollow feeling headache.

Finally taking the chance to look around the room, he raised his head and searched, "Professor?" he meekly asked between shallow breaths. As his eyes came upon the green-covered headmaster, he also saw three other figures leaning against the wall behind Ozpin. Vlad quickly stood straighter and pulled his hood off with a dumbfounded expression. "Uum... Hello.."

One of the figures behind Ozpin, a crimson haired boy with nobility in the way he carried himself, stepped forward with a frustrated expression and regarded Vlad with a cynical eye. "What took you so long? We've been waiting for hours!"

A girl that looked more like a biker than a Huntress stepped forward now, "Oh shut up wonder-boy, not _all _of us live in downtown high-society." The raving black haired girl gestured to the door which had a missing knob, "At least he didn't kick the front door in you dolt!"

Professor Ozpin simply waited for the bickering between the two to die down as he sipped from his coffee mug, along with the third stranger, a very disciplined looking girl who stood at perfect attention that made no move to add to the heated words.

"Whatever," the red haired boy conceded as he crossed his arms and averted his eyes. Vlad suppressed a smile as he saw the embarrassment and bruise on the boy's ego.

"Now that you've all met," Ozpin started before taking another sip from his precious cup, "Roan, Melania, Natasha, meet Vladimir. I expect the four of you to get along and treat each other with respect, because you will be spending the next four years together under my wing."

Melania and Roan's tempers cooled some, and the former spoke, "What? Work with _him_?" she asked, an annoyed expression painting her face as she regarded Roan. Natasha closed her eyes, _children, _she thought and hoped it was some kind of joke.

Vlad started swaying ever so slightly, and got confused as his vision began to blur, "P-Professor?" His grip on the scythe in his hand waned and his fingers started to open, letting the the heavy blade clatter to the ground. He had to take a step back to right his balance, and he brought a gloved hand to his face. His headache had vanished and now he just felt weightless, and he started falling back.

Natasha's instincts kicked in, "Hey kid!" She bounded forward, getting no acknowledgement from Vlad and caught him before he fell, cradling his head in her arm and laying him down on her lap. A small stream of blood trickled from his nose, and Vladimir lost consciousness. This wasn't something Natasha was in any way equipped for. "Professor! Something's wrong!" she pleaded with primal fear in her eyes.

Ozpin tossed his cane aside, and spun his mug to land perfectly on his desk. He quickly dug a metal box out of a nearby drawer, opened it, and pulled a syringe from the box. With urgent haste, he knelt to the pale boy and injected the substance straight into his neck. _I was afraid this might happen._

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A/N: Through deliberation with Relks, I went through a total of about 7 different ways this chapter could have gone, and by far this one is my favorite. Also occurring during these conversations, was the decision to make our stories of team BLWK(Bulwark) and REPR(Reaper) intertwined.

That's right! The stories are going to be one giant collaboration between myself and Relks the Disturbed. We're going to be attempting to keep the two synced, but for the time being, I will be left just a little bit behind because chapter 3 will be taking place in the same time-frame as the series, and Relks' story will take place directly after the events of my first chapter. Everything after my third chapter will be caught up, but just to keep everything from getting confusing, I'm putting that little note here.

See you on the other side~


	3. Volatile Chemistry

A/N: My partner and I, the cheeky bastards that we are, have arrived at an agreement: We are going to interlock our stories so completely, that scenes are only going to be fully understood when you have the perception from both stories. :3

If you feel confused, or think that part of the story is missing, there's a reason for that. It probably means that whatever is missing is in the other's story. Keep in mind, we're not trying to deliberately frustrate people and get shared readers out of the deal, we simply wanted to make this an adventure for ourselves as much as it is for our readers. Linking the two stories has been such an incredibly fun experience that I can't _not_ recommend a fellow writing duo to try it out.

For future reference: my partner in writing this two-part beast is Relks the Disturbed, and his half of the story is named A Wall Against The Dark.

See you on the other side~

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**Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own RWBY. The series and affiliated copyrights go to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth.**

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At the same time Vladimir departed from the orphanage, there was already silent activity buzzing across the rooftops of Beacon Academy. One Natasha Raven was scaling the central spire of Beacon, by hand. With her Semblance of Aura manifestation, she was able to tap into her Aura and generate hard, transparent blue surfaces. In the scenario at hand, she materialized spectral blue talon-like claws over her exposed fingertips.

Natasha, as well as Roan and Melania, had been given the same instructions as Vladimir form Ozpin. They were all to infiltrate Beacon Academy from any location, at any time, by any means necessary. So long as they are never seen in the process. Although, the three older students had an advantage: the sun had yet to rise, and the moon remained obscured by a thin cloud cover.

Natasha clenched her right hand and buried the ghostly talons into the stone as she clutched onto the beret she wore with her left hand, barely keeping a sudden gust of wind from claiming her hat for itself. "Well this was a great idea," she mumbled through the rushing wind. As the gust eased its assault on the spire, she continued her trek to the top. As her hand finally crested the edge, she hauled her body up and onto the roof as she perched herself in a half-crouch to look out over all of Beacon Academy. For such a specialized school admitting only a limited number of students, the campus of the school was much larger than anyone would ever guessed a school of any sort would ever need to be. Although Natasha had heard many stories during her education at Sanctum, seeing pictures and descriptions of the small city-sized complex was truly awe-inspiring.

She was tempted to sit and stay awhile, just to admire the architecture, but she was on a mission. Well, not a mission per se, it was more of a show-and-tell between herself and three others. Pulling the electronic scroll from her pocket and opening it, she reviewed the blueprint given to them for the layout of the rooms throughout all the different wings and floors. It took Natasha almost a full five minutes to pinpoint the exact floor and corridor to find Professor Ozpin's office. Compared to finding it on a map, it took her half an hour to find the office from the outside. Sure enough, just as the map told where it was, she found the large windows of Ozpin's office, one of which was wide open. Natasha stood on the edge of the roof just above the office, and with utmost agility, tumbled forward and spun to clutch the top frame of the window and use the edge as a fulcrum to swing into the room. She released the wooden frame and let her momentum carry her through a back flip to land on her feet and roll to dispel any remaining momentum. A masterfully skilled demonstration of superior agility, but even with her level of skill, she immediately discovered one fact that marred her goal of perfection: she lost.

Once inside, she found Professor Ozpin sitting in his padded leather chair, and in an opposite corner of the room sat Melania Pearl, leaning against the wall half-asleep from being awake at such an early hour. Natasha's vice was Pride, a vice she often tries to break due to the inconvenience it would place on her ability to work well in a team. So she gritted her teeth, and smoldered.

Melania was aware of Natasha's arrival, but was too tired to give a damn. Nor did she notice the inward struggle Natasha conveyed through body language of her frustration. The latter did not, however, escape the watchful eye of Professor Ozpin as he covered his grin by taking a sip from his seemingly ever-present cup of coffee. Be it the wee hours of morning, or the daunting hours of night, Ozpin always found it fitting to drink coffee. A true oddity among men, to be certain.

The solid thunk of his cup sitting back onto the table broke the silence, "Impressive. I never thought of climbing the spire in such a way," Ozpin remarked in regards to Natasha's tactic. Until that moment, neither Natasha nor Melania noticed the scroll in his hand, monitoring several different views from around the campus. Natasha strained her eyes to see the current image fixed on-screen. It was video of a red-haired boy frantically, and somewhat comically rushing through the corridors of Beacon, no doubt the third one to make it to their little get-together in the headmaster's office. _'The third _yet _to make it', _Natasha corrected herself with a mental note. There was still one person unaccounted for.

A loud thumping sound began growing louder and louder, drawing the attention of Ozpin and the two girls. It echoed through the halls and perforated the walls, obscuring the direction the sound was coming from. The thumps became sharper and more distinct, finally resolving into clear footsteps as the third student in question finally found the door to Ozpin's office. Without wasting any time, the stomping echoes ceased, only to be replaced by an intrusive bash on the outside of the wooden door.

The sudden crash and the creaks from the strained door caused Melania to hop from her seat on a low shelf and panic from being violently dragged out of her sleepy daze. She dusted herself off, now fully alert when another crash on the door caused her to flinch away again, now with an angry air about her. "What the hell is he doing?!" Melania bellowed as the door shuddered from the impacts, somehow staying in a single piece.

Natasha cringed, slightly turning her face away and squinting one eye in a subconscious response as she anticipated the door to splinter and send pieces flying. Her imagination wasn't completely on key with the result, but she was close. With one final heave, the entire lock mechanism and handle came free from the door with a sizable chunk from the door itself. The door swung quickly and slammed into the adjacent wall, finally free to transfer the huge forces the red-haired teenager was capable of exerting.

Standing in the doorway was Roan Ashworth, still with his foot in the air where the door knob once was. In his hands was a very tactical-grade combat shotgun, poised and aimed away from the door as he positioned himself for the door-breaching kick. Quickly, to avoid any _more _unneeded attention, he rounded the open door and closed the remaining plane of wood.

Roan faced the now disfigured door and slumped his posture, propping the shotgun in hand over his right shoulder as he held the stock of the weapon with the corresponding hand. "Finally!" he bit out with a visible and audible wave of relaxation wash over his extremities, "This place is a maze I swear!"

Roan combed his free hand through the disheveled crimson locks messily covering his scalp. Turning and approaching the other three in the office with his eyes closed, he absent-mindedly joined the others, although he still didn't register the shocked expressions of the two strangers. That is, until he opened his eyes and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Uhhh..." Roan groaned as he fumbled for words, trying his damnedest to cover up his oblivious entrance.

Melania visibly angered, reddening in the face as the words on her tongue turned to fire and steam. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" To say she exploded into an animated frenzy of irritation and anger was putting it lightly. Melania practically became an effigy of pissed. "Did you even think before you _kicked the door in_?! Who even _DOES_ that?!"

"Well, I've only been here once before and I thought it would be easy to find but I was wrong and this place is just confusing and, well, I IMPROVISED OK?!" Roan shot back with an extremely defensive tone.

At first, Natasha almost broke her trained composure and added to the heated words, but the bickering somehow proved amusing to her. Roan's appearance alone was somewhat comical. Coupled with his messy red hair, he wore a rust colored sleeveless shirt with flayed edges, clearly evidence from him doing some kind of strenuous activity. He wore a loose-fitting cloth belt which tightened through two metal rings around a pair of baggy gray cargo pants, topped off with scuffed steel-toed combat boots on his feet.

Natasha decided she didn't have a dog in this fight, and simply tuned out the argument. Surprisingly enough, Ozpin made no move to attend to the now broken door, nor did he move to end the harsh words. Pinching the skin on the bridge of her nose, Natasha closed her eyes and hoped to any god that would listen for her fears not to come true: Ozpin had gathered four students, from four incredibly different walks of life, all with conflicting personalities - so far - and was more than likely stitching them together in a match made in hell and call it a team.

Through her best efforts, the bickering continued and echoed through her skull, causing the gears of her mind to catch on each other and grind to an annoyingly sharp halt. After fifteen minutes, even Professor Ozpin, in his years of trained patience through dealing with arrogant students found the encounter tiring.

Ozpin forced his cane into the floorboards, hard, and used the loud response to clear the air and bring himself to his feet. "Mr. Ashwoth, Ms. Pearl, if you would please calm yourselves, we could get introductions out of the way and keep the peace."

Without another word, both Roan and Melania crossed their arms and averted their eyes from each other, pouting in unison. Roan had already sat his weapon down to lean against a nearby corner. Meanwhile, Natasha did not carry a weapon, and Melania had a curved scabbard with the intricate handle of a sword sticking out from it. From the generous curve of the sheath, it left a lot to the imagination for the appearance of the blade itself.

Natasha teased a few possible designs the sheath could contain through the size and shape of it, when she paused and mentally kicked herself. _What was his name again? _She looked toward the scruffy looking boy in amazement. Well, less amazement, and more blatant surprise. "You... You're an Ashworth? As in _Roan_ Ashworth?"

"What's it to ya?" Roan shot back while moving his gaze to meet Natasha. Melania subconsciously scoffed, finding another irrational excuse not to like Roan even more.

"Curiosity," Natasha responded as she followed suit and leaned against a nearby bookshelf. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and propped one foot against the wall, the other further forward on the floor to support her weight. Even though she was dressed in somewhat black-tie inspired clothing from the waist up, the blue button up vest and black dress shirt did not hamper her movements, as one would expect. The cloth breathed and flexed like silk, but maintained a rigid yet smooth state at rest like the most expensive textiles. From the waist down, however, there was really no secret. She simply wore a pair of fitted black military fatigues, complete with extra pockets, tucked into the - again, military issue black combat boots on her feet. Natasha's wardrobe was one of her primary vents for her forsaken hubris.

"Now, on with the introductions. This young woman-" Ozpin gestured to Melania first, "-goes by the name of Melania Pearl. A very skilled, agile, and cunning acrobat taught well outside the circle of Signal Academy."

"It's a _pleasure_" the scowling girl in question hissed the last word with obvious sarcasm before stifling another long, exaggerated yawn. The petite biker-themed girl seemed so far out of place, yet she showed no sign of self-conscious worries. She did, however, give every sign of having zero enthusiasm at being inside Beacon Academy.

"The fiery-headed noble, as you now know," Ozpin paused and took another sip form his coffee, subtly hiding a small grin at the irony, "Roan Ashworth. His acquaintance this morning is actually due in most part to his steadfast determination. So much so, that he even made it through a fully fledged Huntress to get my attention."

Although she made no expression to give away her real thoughts, (an incredibly well forged poker-face proved invaluable in these situations) Natasha was actually very impressed that someone so brash, so stubborn, and to be brutally honest, someone as pig-headed as Roan had the skill or knowledge to defeat a Huntress.

"Finally, we come to Miss Natasha Raven. An incredibly well versed and impressively accomplished tactical genius." Ozpin let that hang in the air for a moment, lightly swishing the dark liquid in his mug. The person in question at the moment, Natasha, could not help but notice how vague his descriptions of their accomplishments truly were. She would be the first to confirm her abilities, but that didn't mean she would go to random strangers and do so brazenly. Ozpin was setting them up for something, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what kind of ulterior motive the headmaster might hold in store.

The three of them definitely had time to ponder that question, seeing as nothing happened for the next hour. But sure enough, finally, the fourth candidate made the scene. Preceding Vladimir's arrival, his approach sounded similar to that of a slow, but heavy wind pushing its way through a dense forest. The sound did not echo through the window and bounce around inside the room, but seemed to seep into the floorboards and walls. The presence approaching piqued Natasha's curiosity, which was admittedly not very hard to do given her heritage, and she watched as the ebony silhouette snaked its way through the open window, closed it behind them, and propped its weight on a very heavy, very lethal looking scythe. The figure came into view almost like an after thought, focusing in the dimly lit room into a surprising image: it was a very young, very innocent looking boy. His chest was heaving up and down from his heavy breathing as he leaned into the wooden staff of his weapon.

Vladimir was only five feet four inches tall, a far cry from Natasha's six foot one frame. _Surely he can't be the fourth? _Natasha thought as Vlad's glistening blue eyes scanned the room with confusion. The boy didn't look dense, or stupid to her, but with the sheer surprise in his reaction, she surmised that Ozpin had relayed personalized instructions to the four of them. This newcomer must not have known about the three others he would be joining. None of these thoughts, however numerous and judgmental they were, ever leaked through Natasha's unreadable expression.

"Uum... Hello.." the young boy mumbled as he removed his hood. The scene played out again, this time from Natasha's perspective as she observed the innocent, naive nature of the fourth arrival. Other than that, she thought very little about the boy as the heated words erupted once more between the red-haired noble and the black-haired brawler. Her nerves were still drawn thin from the first time, so she spaced out and paid no specific attention to anything in the room as she waited for the commotion to die down again. Something that did catch her attention, however, was Vlad's reactions to the unfolding scene. As Roan puffed up and pouted, he turned away to avoid looking anyone in the eye.

What caught her attention was the fact that Vladimir was silently laughing as he watched Roan's mood sour. Through the shouting match, the sudden outburst at his being late, and the fact that he knew none of the people in the room aside from Professor Ozpin, he was actually able to laugh at something that Natasha herself seemingly missed.

Then came Vlad's sudden woozy, uncoordinated sway. Now with Natasha's undivided attention, Vlad continued to wobble in a vain attempt to right himself. The events repeated themselves: Vlad started falling, Natasha yelled out to keep his focus so he would catch himself, before she bolted in a blur of motion to catch the dead weight of Vladimir's small, fragile body.

In her mind, Natasha did not panic and lose her thoughts in a cloud of 'what ifs', like "What if he's dying? What if he's sick? What if he's faking it?" Instead, her train of thought was clear, and precise. Instead of blindly scouring her memory for a possible solution, her first reaction was simple: ask Ozpin for help. To her immense gratitude, he was ready for this situation. If the moment were not so urgent, she would question Ozpin's innate knowledge of an immediate solution, but for the time being she practically attached herself to Vladimir, not letting him out of her sight for a moment. That is, until Ozpin called the school's physician to take the unconscious boy to the infirmary, discreetly of course.

Ozpin pulled Natasha aside as both Roan and Melania sat in his office, dumbfounded. Roan ran a hand through his hair, an alien expression painted on his face. "Well then..."

Melania sat with her legs crossed, her sword laying across her lap with a hand over her mouth. Her expression was like a sphinx, just as unreadable as Natasha while she trailed off into deep thought.

Outside the office, Natasha tried to follow the nurse as Vlad was carted away, only to be stopped as Ozpin stepped in front of her. She tried to move around him, but was again halted by his cane. "Sir! Please, let me go with him!" Even Natasha was surprised by the amount of emotion in her voice, the amount of need it conveyed. Until this point, she let nothing slip free of her iron visage, but she couldn't shake this primal feeling of something terrible befalling the young Hunter-in-training.

In an attempt to comfort the fretting teenager, Ozpin placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke quietly, "He will be fine, you have my word. But right now, your team needs their leader."

Natasha froze, just as dumbfounded as the others, as her _teammates._ "L-..Leader? Sir, you can't honestly expect this ramshackle group of, _kids _not to tear itself apart." In that instant, logic and reason returned her to her senses. Unfortunately, it also returned her sense of pride. "You can't seriously think I can lead them. They can't even be lead! Just look at those two, not even a full day and they already hate each other! They are just going to hold me back, I-"

"No," Ozpin quickly interjected, cutting her off mid-sentence. "They are not going to hold you back, you are holding them back."

_What?_ Natasha meant to voice her sudden shock at the headmaster's words, but she found her tongue unresponsive as her eyes widened with increasing worry. It was barely her first day at Beacon, and already the famous Professor Ozpin shut down her hopes for becoming a great Huntress right then and there. _Me? Hold _them _back? This must be some kind of sick joke... _"But.. But, I-"

Once again, Ozpin stopped her, this time he held out his hand to indicate he wasn't finished. "Please, try to understand. It is no coincidence that I chose you to head this team. I know the three of them may seem... unstable, and in truth, they are." Ozpin leaned in closer and spoke softer. "The three of them have suffered severe trauma, and need guidance. This is not why I need you. I need you because not only have they suffered, the three of them - and by all rights you are counted among them, are potentially the most powerful, most dangerous people ever to take up the sword in the name of mankind."

If not for her iron grip on the reactions she presented, Natasha might have actually been embarrassed at that last remark. Professor Ozpin, one of the most important names in the fight for mankind, thought the four of them were potentially so incredibly dangerous as to be afforded the right to train under his watchful eye. She was stunned, shocked even. The frantic storm of her mind settled, and she listened intently to Ozpin's next words.

"I need you to lead them not only because you can teach them, and guide them down the path of good. I need you to lead them because you _must _hold them back, for their own safety."

It finally donned on her, she now knew exactly why she was chosen: because of her Semblance, because of her ability to precisely control her Aura in such high processes. In the same sense, Natasha realized that her new teammates must be burdened with a terrible power, terrible enough to warrant careful scrutiny by one of the most respected, and feared men in Vytal. So she now found herself heading one of the most ambitious experiments in Beacon Academy's history. Yet she wasn't worried, she was relieved. This wasn't done on some whim, this was carefully thought through.

"Now, the arriving students can no longer be delayed, I must leave for the Initiation Ceremony. You should take your team and wait in the infirmary with young Vladimir, he would likely be frightened out of his wits if he is to wake up with no one there for him." Natasha clicked her heels together and snapped a sharp salute, precisely placing her right hand above her brow as per standard.

"Yes sir," she confirmed with pride in her eyes. Not personal pride, full of vanity, but pride in what her role stood for. Pride in the cause she now fought for.

* * *

Tired, sore eyes strained as the eyelids clenched shut in protest to the bright light, and Vlad groggily shook himself from his slumber. The familiar sensation of muted sounds, numb senses, and blurry lights told him what he needed to know: he was laying in a bed with an IV embedded in the crook of his left elbow. To his surprise, he had to correct himself: he was laying in a long, cushioned leather chair associated with therapy sessions. To his left, Roan and Melania were leaning against each other on an equally plush couch, passed out. To his right, Natasha sat slumped forward with her elbows resting on her knees and her head hanging forward. He must have been out for a while, the three of them looked exhausted, especially Roan who let out an atrociously loud snore.

Sudden movement to his right caught Vlad's admittedly lazy attention. Natasha looked up and sneered at the sleeping duo opposite her in the room. But through his blurred vision, something seemed off. His eyes caught more movement than he expected as something behind the militaristic girl moved. He tried sitting up to get a better look, when he noticed why something seemed off. Natasha wasn't wearing her beret, and the odd movement was coming from the top of her head.

Vlad tilted his head and squinted one eye as his vision began to focus, finally clarifying what he was looking at. On top Natasha's head sat a pair of pitch-black wolf ears, pointed back and laying flat against her scalp as she scowled in annoyance at the loud snoring. The tilt to Vlad's head increased as he watched the pair of ears on her head twitch and pulse every time another snore came from either Roan or now Melania as she added to the volume in the room. Natasha hadn't noticed him yet, and he continued to watch as the black pair of ears now stood back up as she pinched the skin between her eyes and shook her head. Now the ears were twitching like some kind of airborne insect was pestering her. It was kind of cute, and completely gave away every bit of emotion Natasha tried ever so hard to hide.

"You're a Faunus?" Vlad whispered as he now sat up to lean into the back of the padded chair.

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, a sudden, sharp snore came from Roan and his eyes snapped open. "She's a WHAT?!"

Both the fact that Vlad finally woke up, and Roan's outburst nearly caused the fuzzy-eared teenager to jump out of her skin from surprise. Meanwhile, Vlad saw every bit of curiosity and wonder practically plastered on Roan's face through his Aura. He tried to stifle a laugh, but failed and he started cackling and holding his sides at Roan's reaction.

In the exact same moment, Melania was torn from her peaceful dream and she put a thorough punch straight into the side of Roan's jaw. "Good lord! How the hell did someone like you manage to get into Beacon?!" she bellowed as she stood over the now hysterical Roan, writhing on the ground.

"Ugh.. totally worth it..." Roan mumbled as he nursed the forming bruise on his cheek.

While the hilarity ensued between his new teammates, his new friends, Vlad couldn't help but smile at the three of them. They may express themselves in strange ways, but they all had good hearts.

_I think this will be pretty fun after_ _all_.

* * *

A/N: PHEW! This chapter was a doosey to write. But it was just so much fun! Oh man, my partner and I have been brainstorming some crazy-ass ideas for the story, and I just can't wait to share with you guys all the fun we're going to have as we journey through Beacon with Bulwark and Reaper.

For future reference, this and the last chapter were purely for character exploration purposes. Chapter 4 will immediately pick up where chapter 1 left off. I'll likely fill in the six month gap by using flashbacks of REPR becoming a team of pure awesome. Haven't decided how, or when yet, but that's most likely how it's gonna go down.

P.S.: Yes Relks, I _finally _described Roan's appearance. Are you happy? You should be, that description took me all of thirty seconds to come up with. Appreciate it you cheeky bastard you!  
(Don't mind us, and trust me, there shall be a lot of banter between he and I in the future. Tis what we do)


	4. First Impressions

A/N: It turns out that my subconscious has issues with moving on, and wants to explore the insane fun I can have with the four unfortunate members of team REPR who must now be subjected to my whims :3

Am I a sadistic bastard? N- probably.  
Will the intimidating title of 'Reaper' keep me from embarrassing the shit out of my characters? Yea- no, hell no it won't.  
Can the chain of shenanigans surely to follow jeopardize the seriousness of the plot? You **wish** funnies would be able to soothe the impact from the feels to come.  
Do I regret any of it? HELL no.

Am I egotistic for asking open-ended questions and answering them myself?

Probably... but that's just between us, right?

Anywho, please enjoy and review! Your continued support _feeeds_ me *choked gurgling noises*

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own RWBY. The series and affiliated copyrights go to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth.**

* * *

The members of Team REPR followed Ozpin from the stage and made their exit. For the next half hour or so, the rest of the student body would be preoccupied with the next policy to be enforced at Beacon Academy, which was Professor Glynda Goodwitch's queue to take the stage and quiet the hushed gossip which swept the gathered teens like wildfire. For a moment, she stood a few feet away from the microphone, waiting for the whispers to die down. When no opportunity presented itself, she cleared the air herself.

The stern blonde approached the mic and cleared her throat, cutting the chatter back down to silence in mere seconds. "As Professor Ozpin has stated, we have begun to implement extra security measures to ensure the safety of all of our students here at Beacon Academy," she began before pausing to absent-mindedly push her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. The lenses gleamed and reflected light to give her a somewhat sadistic expression, if only for a second. "These include a new chaperon policy. Starting today, all first-year teams will be given a second-year team to serve as their chaperons, three first-year teams to each second-year team. You will receive more detailed instructions in your scrolls, which I encourage you to check now."

As Glynda Goodwitch relayed the instructions to the students, REPR was directed by Ozpin to wait in the main training hall for the other teams they themselves would be grouped with. Although they were never actually told _who_ they were being grouped with. The walk there was relatively quiet and peaceful, Natasha lead the way, Roan and Melania followed on her left and right hand sides respectively, and Vlad followed in the back.

Vlad took in a slow, deep breath and held it for several seconds, before releasing it in a contented sigh. As he walked, he rolled his shoulders and popped his neck, visibly relaxing his disposition.

"Geez dude, you really need to lighten up," Roan spoke as he turned and offered Vlad a surprisingly sly smile.

Melania shoved Roan's shoulder and put him off balance, "Give him a break, you damn well know he doesn't do well in crowds. We _all_ know that." _Because we aren't as dense as iron like you are_, Melania mentally concluded in regards to the noble. She hung on that thought for a moment, noting through the corner of the eye how han-... _Handsome? Him? Never…_ She cut off her train of thought before she regretted it and shot her eyes back forward. It was unusual to see Roan actually act the part of a noble for once, his crimson hair was slicked back, and his ornate long-tailed jacket really complimented his features.

Vlad's mask conveyed no expression, but his gaze dropped and he subconsciously clasped his hands together inside the spacious sleeve of his left arm as he twiddled his thumbs. "I've never been watched by so many people before…" he whispered before slightly raising his head, "Did we _have_ to go on stage?" He tried his best to overcome his stubborn social phobias, but he could only do so much. Standing before hundreds of skeptical teenagers, especially when every single one had combat training, was incredibly hard for him to overcome without shaking to the core.

It was silent from then on as they neared the training hall. In truth, his teammates all argued in his stead that he shouldn't have to be subjected to his own fears like that. To their surprise, however, even Ozpin supported their claims. His reason for doing so tied Natasha, Melania and Roan together in a pact to safeguard Vlad from that point on: to protect the young Hunter from himself. Ozpin publically introduced him to the rest of Beacon Academy for one reason and one reason alone: Vladimir was terrifying. If Team REPR were to act as Beacon's sword, but they were hidden to operate in secret, what would happen if a student found him? A student with fears of the supernatural finds a black-cloaked, scythe-wielding, mask-wearing figure who moves like shadow. For all anyone knew, he could be an assassin from the White Fang. Of course, those close to Vlad knew beyond the shadow a doubt that he was one of the most innocent people to grace the halls of Beacon.

The four of them finally reached the training hall, where they had left their weapons earlier that morning before the rest of the students awoke. Natasha turned the handle and was the first to walk in, before slumping into one of the cushioned lounge chairs which were strategically placed at the epicenter of the room when the occupants wore themselves out. In Natasha's opinion, keeping the peace between the moody, and egotistic pair that was Roan Ashworth and Melania Pearl warranted her permission to laze about before the other teams arrived. Alas, that hope was quickly broken almost immediately after Roan entered. He unbuttoned his cloak and lazily tossed it to land on one of the chairs before he ran both hands through his hair and left it in messy shambles.

Natasha sighed and ran a hand over her face, metaphorically wiping the annoyance from her thoughts. The now nonchalant noble spun on a heel and slumped into the same chair he tossed his coat onto, before groaning and beginning one of his complaint-fueled rants.

"Yo boss-lady, how come we never got any breakfast?" he asked as he kicked his feet up onto another chair and massaged his growling stomach.

His lack of grace elicited another trademarked sigh from Natasha, "How can you act so undignified? And to think, you did so well this morning. Until now, that is." The top of her beret slightly shifted, no doubt as her wolf-ears conveyed the unwanted emotional queues she tried to hide through discipline.

"Ooooh not _this_ shit again!" Roan groaned as he stood and strode with an aggravated kick in his step to lean against a table further away from Natasha's seat. "When are you going to give this fight a rest?" he whined as he scowled and crossed his arms before his chest.

Natasha stood and stamped her heels into the floor, rooting her in place as she erupted into the ever-lasting argument between she and the stuck-up noble. "Why can't you just act civilized for _one_ day?! That's all I ask, one day so we can make a good impression," she pleaded.

Roan clicked his tongue as he bared his teeth through his frown. His head snapped to look straight at Natasha with fire in his eyes, "Civilized? How is pretending to be something I'm not civilized? Sounds more like_ lying_ to me," Roan bit back, his scowl deepening some in the process.

"Something you're not?.." she paused for a moment in disbelief, of all the times this fight went on between them, this was the first time he denied _being_ nobility. "You _are_ a noble! That counts for something, if not for the fact that you would rather throw away your birthright!"

"My birthright!? You seem to forget that I don't give two shits about my _birthright_. I became a Hunter to get _away_ from my family," Roan shot back with fury tinging his words. Without realizing it, he had let his temper get too far out of his control and the table shook like a leaf in the face of a coming hurricane. For just a moment he froze, his expression locked. _Damn it…_ He pushed off the table and ignored his thoughts, simply going with his instincts. Roan stomped toward his team leader and stared her down, now fully sick of her insistence to 'accept' himself.

Natasha didn't give him an inch as she matched his step, shooting an all-too familiar look back at him. The look in her eyes, however, didn't convey anger, or hatred. It was a warning. After dealing with Natasha and her practically unreadable poker-face over the past six months, he had the hang of reading her eyes. In that moment, he realized how close he was to losing it, to compromising all the progress he had made thus-far.

He dropped his head in defeat, and in a smaller part, shame, before letting out a heavy sigh. "Alright, I got it, I was outta line. But I ain't dressing like some corporate rat just to make you or anyone else happy," he concluded as his features relaxed. Finally resuming his calm, he quickly noticed something was off, and his mind shot back to the reason why they were even in the training hall. He glanced to the door where the young Ruby Rose stood with a confused, and concerned expression. "We have a guest," he said in a mock noble accent.

For just a split second, Natasha didn't register everything that just happened, she was fixated on the fact that Roan stepped down before things got out of hand. Then she slowly looked to the open doorway where the young Huntress-in-training stood. Natasha's eyes widened and her brain flooded with thoughts. Her skin went flush and she would have paled if not for the fact she was pale to begin with, and her wolf-ears laid completely flat against her scalp. If she didn't mentally fire her self-control, she would have started blushing profusely and completely lose her cool, but years of practice have remedied that.

Like nothing had happened, she raised her head, straightened her posture, and looked Ruby straight in the eyes. "I-... I'm sorry you had to see this." Although she prepared her response beforehand, she still stuttered to her immense disappointment. Before she continued, she shot one last glare from the corner of her eye to Roan, then back to Ruby as she introduced herself and her comrades. "My name is Natasha, and this is Roan, Melania, and Vladimir," she said as she gestured to the others in the room. It was only at this moment when she looked back to find that Vlad was sitting in a window sill ten feet in the air, his attention buried in one of his favorite books.

Ruby's gaze switched between the members of Team REPR in turn until her eyes rested upon the cloaked form of Vladimir. To be more precise, what was leaning against the vertical window sill just above him. The gleaming arc of the deadly scythe behind him. Her extended look toward Vlad enticed Natasha's curiosity, causing her beret to slightly twitch again as she followed Ruby's eyes.

"Is that a _SCYTHE_!?" Ruby practically gushed as her eyes went wide with a small twinkle offset from her pupils. The sudden call in his direction immediately secured Vlad's undivided attention as he searched for the source and quickly found Ruby. His head ever-so-slightly tilted to one side, while he simultaneously clapped the book in his hand shut in an afterthought. The sound of the book closing echoed several times, gaining the attention of his remaining teammates.

Unbeknownst to Vlad, the three of them had a mutual, knowing grin. Vlad's comrades shared in a little inside joke at his expense. It was an observation of one of his subtle gestures which he used in very specific circumstances.

_The tilt!_ the trio thought in unison. Melania was still too exhausted to care, so she slouched deeper into her chair, trying to take a power-nap. Natasha hid the expression, as per usual, but she was a little anxious. Meanwhile, Roan was mentally cheering Vlad on as though he could hear his thoughts. In reality, that wasn't too far from the truth. 'The tilt' is what they referred to as Vlad's head tilting just enough, showing something has completely captured his curiosity, which proved incredibly difficult for someone as content as he to simply read. Vlad was a thinker, not a doer, so these moments of 'the tilt' usually proved very interesting. _C'mon man, don't blow it!_ Roan somehow held his poker face and kept his emotion in check, despite the argument just minutes earlier.

Vlad sat the black, leather-bound book on the ledge and carefully hopped down from the window with his heavy weapon in tow. "..Yes?" was his admittedly timid response. In a blur of red and black, Ruby vanished from his vision. Vlad scanned the room in front of him before she spoke again, this time from behind him.

"Wow, it's a traditional style too! Did you make it?" Ruby asked as she leaned forward, practically on the tips of her toes in an attempt to see her reflection in the shining blade.

"Um.. no I didn't." That was a lie. He did help forge it, although he was very young. His train of thought skipped a beat, and he spun to face Ruby, placing the base of the scythe on the ground in front of him and to his right, giving the giddy teen no reason to go behind him again.

"I haven't seen a scythe like this since I trained with my Uncle Qrow," Ruby voiced as she traced the familiar shape of the weapon with her eyes. Vlad's grip slightly tightened, and his breaths started getting shallow. Not only was another person actually intent on asking him questions, other than 'what's behind the mask?', she was practically at eye-level with him. He was usually the odd man out in terms of height. Each question rapid-fired and slowly pushed him back as he subconsciously retreated, half a step at a time.

_Oh that's not good…_ Roan thought as he watched the onslaught of Ruby's questioning impact Vlad's psyche in a physical way. His enthusiasm melted as his comrade lost ground at an alarming rate from his inability to deal with that much direct attention.

"Did someone give it to you, then? It looks waaay too well kept to just be someone's idea of a throwback weapon," Ruby continued with her glee-fueled rant, her hands hovering in front of her as her fingers twitched. It looked as if it took all her restraint not to tear the bladed weapon from Vlad's grasp to more closely examine it.

"Yes, it was a gift.. from an old friend" Another lie. It was inherited, left behind by his father.. How had she done it? In a completely innocent, un-pointed manner, she had struck a nerve where it hurt the most, completely on accident.

"That's so cool!" Ruby cooed, leaning her upper body forward just enough that her face reflected in the mirror-like blade of the scythe. "I wonder what alloy they used to make the blade. Do you know? Metal normally doesn't shine like that unless it's valuable, like silver. But you can't use silver for blades. Is it titanium?"

This was it. Vlad couldn't retreat anymore, literally. His hind-foot hit the back wall and stopped him dead. He couldn't space out the distance between himself any Ruby any further, and he couldn't patsy the attention onto someone else. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long: his guardian angel came to his rescue.

Ruby had another question on the tip of her tongue before a hand gently sat on her shoulder, cutting off her train of thought and drawing her attention with a somewhat confused expression. As she turned to see who was behind her, her eyes rested upon REPR's team leader. Natasha released her shoulder as she offered a sincere, almost sad expression to the excited teenage girl.

Natasha recalled the Initiations for the new students earlier that year, and put a name to the face of the red-hooded girl. "Your name is Ruby, right?" she asked as she slightly kneeled to look Ruby in the eye. "Please understand, Vlad isn't the most, _social_ person on the team. I'm sure you mean well, but you're starting to upset him. Could you give him some space?"

"O-oh," Ruby stuttered, finally lodged free from her fixation on her weaponized obsession and turned back to face Vlad with her cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment. "S-sorry," she began as she took a deliberate step back from Vlad and extended a hand to her fellow scythe-user, "My name is Ruby Rose, it's a pleasure to meet you." As an added gesture which practically wrote 'please forgive me' on her face, she put up the best puppydog face she could muster.

After recoiling from the barrage, Vlad resumed his lava-lamp like mentality as a small, kind smile tugged at his lips. _She really is sincere, I don't even need to see her color to know…_ He stood straighter and slightly bowed at the waist, "My name is Vladimir Ebon, it's nice to meet you too, Ms. Rose."

Ruby awkwardly withdrew her hand as she saw his bow, but gave an absolutely adorable smile as she bowed as well, "You can just call me Ruby."

As if on queue, the doors once again flew open as the remaining members of Team RWBY caught up to their speed-augmented leader. It was only in that moment that Team REPR realized that Ruby had made ridiculously good time to the training hall ahead of the other two teams. The collective trio looked very haggard in comparison to their leader, who still had energy enough to almost drive an unfortunate Reaper up a wall.

"Ruby! What have I told you about leaving us behind?" Weiss almost immediately scolded upon arrival, with an irritated scowl painted on her face as she surveyed Team REPR. "I am deeply sorry about her. I'm Weiss Schnee, it's a pleasure to meet all of you," she added, her hands going through the practised motions of giving a curtsey as she dipped and rose again.

The black-wreathed ninja was next to enter the room, and she simply gave a polite nod in greeting, "Blake Belladonna."

Just seconds after Blake, the ever-expected brawler of Team RWBY made her way into the training hall last. Practically strutting in with her usual glow of confidence, she looked from one member of the 'elite of the elite' as Ozpin put it, until her eyes landed on tall, dark, and red. _Well hello there,_ she thought as a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

Meanwhile, Roan, the_ shining_ model of the male gender that he was, already beat Yang to the punch as he looked over her eyes, her billowing golden hair, and finally her voluptuous figure. With one of his patented lady-killer (or at least he thought so) grins, he strutted toward the fiery boxer.

"I'm going to be straight with you," the shotgun wielding Reaper spoke, his grin widening even more, "we saw the clips from the Initiation, and I gotta say, you were _hot_." Natasha swiftly, but quietly, brought her hand to her head and facepalmed. _You're just digging your grave even deeper kid…_ she thought as her hidden wolf-ears again laid flat against her scalp. Melania was roused from her near-slumber as her eyes shot half-way open to stop in an evil sneer without a subject. Her lips formed a tight frown but she didn't make any move other than to awkwardly shift in the cushy chair for more comfort.

"Did he just…" Blake Belladonna's eyes widened as she realized what Roan had just said, _...make a pun!?_ The realization simultaneously reached Ruby and Weiss as they noticed Roan_ Ashworth_, a noteworthy noble living at Beacon just tried hitting on Yang. _The_ Yang, who was taken aback by the fact that Roan beat her to the flirting. The sheer irony didn't escape her however, and she was too slow to stop a giggle that rose unexpectedly, which only served to widen Roan's cheeky grin even more.

Vlad didn't need his Semblance to see the coming chaos, no, his memory served well enough for that. Melania stood, plucked her weapon which was leaning against her chair from the floor, and unsheathed it. Her weapon was an exotically curved scimitar etched with small, geometric seams along the flat sides of the blade. She slowly walked to the away-facing Roan with malice in her eyes. With her weapon at her side pointing down, she slightly rotated part of the handle near the guard, and the blade separated into many gleaming chips of metal all bound by strands of metal cable.

In a deft movement fueled by anger, and another emotion Melania absolutely refused to acknowledge, she moved the handle of the now whip-like weapon in a semicircle before quickly flicking her wrist and snaring Roan in a tightly locked noose around his arms and torso. She rooted her feet into the floor and tugged the cable at an angle to pull Roan from his feet and land haphazardly into the same chair he was sitting in to begin with. The excess momentum tilted the chair back on two legs, and Roan scrambled to keep the balance from spilling backwards, to no avail. The chair fully tipped and his head slammed in the hard floor.

With another flick of her wrist, Melania activated the mechanical winch to withdraw the blade and return it to the form of an exotic scimitar. She cleared her throat and stared the same icy daggers toward the now irritated Yang Xiao Long. "Melania Pearl,"_ at your service._ If not for the fact that those last three words would almost certainly end in conflict, no matter which way you slice it, she would have gladly added them on for her own amusement.

"Got a problem?" Yang asked with a tinge of anger in her words. The tinge of anger quickly bloomed into rage as her irises began to smolder a threateningly dark red. Though she was not angry enough to elicit her trademarked 'flaming mane' all too commonly accompanied by some misdeed befalling her hair.

"No, I don't have a problem, but you will if you don't back up, _bitch_," Melania replied with a venomous undertone. If there had been anymore tension in the air, the gap between the two furious girls would combust.

"Yang…" Ruby spoke cautiously, already seeing where this was going in the body language from both of them.

"Melania!" Natasha barked, her practiced poker-face crumbling from the sheer audacity of her teammates threat.

"NORA!" came the sudden cry as a form of hyperactive pink and white topped with bright orange hair sprung up right between Melania and Yang. Natasha didn't think it possible, but somehow, Nora was the perfect catalyst to defuse the entire showdown. Everyone in proximity immediately took a step back as they simultaneously flinched from Nora being, well from Nora being Nora.

Seconds later, the rest of Team JNPR followed close behind the ever-energetic Nora. "Sorry about the wait, guys," Jaune apologized in a second-nature response. Catching the aftermath of walking into the middle of what could have been a blood-bath, Jaune noticed the tension hanging above the two sharply contrasting yet similar women in the center of the room. "I think we just interrupted something…"

"And thank Dust you did," Roan grumbled from his place on the ground as he righted the chair. He massaged the back of his head where it had hit the floor during his less than graceful landing.

"THE MASK!" Nora exclaimed, rushing away from Yang and Melania and beelining straight for Vlad. Before the scythe-toting young man could even react, the pink-loving Valkyrie had almost tore his mask from his face. "I must know!"

_Oh not again!_ Roan thought, barely keeping from yelling it aloud. He almost jumped from his chair, before he stopped in his tracks and let out a sigh of relief as a scene unfolded before him. Still somewhat shell-shocked from the earlier assault of questions, Vlad was rooted in place, like the gears in his head locked and he simply didn't know what to do. In a sudden streak of black edged with deep blue, Nora was spun one-hundred-eighty degrees. The speed stifled her momentum, as she was turned to face the door from which they had just entered. But now Natasha stood before her, clutching the bubbly girl's wrist with an iron grip.

"Easy, Momma-Wolf," Roan quipped from his place in the lounge chair, grinning like a fiend. _And thank god you did… I really didn't wanna tackle her…_ He relaxed back into the chair as everyone else still reeled from the chaotic back-and-forth of the past five minutes, going from casual, to serious, to casual again, to Nora, and back to serious again.

Natasha slightly squinted her eyes and tilted her head, before she loosened her grip on Nora's hand. The orange-haired Huntress-in-training wasn't even seemingly fazed by the show of force as she hopped to the side and looked over the contrasting Natasha with a smile. "You're fast. How'd you do that?" Nora asked with a gleam of curiosity in the corner of her eye.

She pondered the question for a moment, and mentally dropped a massive weight from her worries. Since day one, she was almost constantly worried how others might react to Vlad's anonymity, but here they were, and so far people bore no ill will toward him. In fact, both the incident with Ruby as well as Nora's insatiable curiosity were just that: curiosity. Not fear, not hate, but intrigue. Natasha turned to face the gathered stares upon her, Nora, and Vlad. It didn't surprise her that some of the looks she got from teams RWBY and JNPR were cautious, she was prepared for people to be afraid of her, but she did everything in her power to keep Vlad from harm's way.

"Okay, now that everyone is here, I need to lay down the law. Rule number 1: do not touch Vlad's mask, this is very important. Rule number 2-"

For the third time, the now battered door into the training hall burst open, perfectly cutting off Natasha's next words. _Simply fantastic…_ she thought with a frown as a single bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face, _another distraction_. Two figures quickly filed into the now packed room, followed by two others who looked as if they had just ran a marathon.

The first person to file in was a petite girl wearing a black hoodie with purple accents and a matching pleated skirt of the same color palette. She had shoulder-length brown hair with a pair of rabbit ears to top it off. The ears themselves were covered in small pinkish scars, and the structure of the ears were bent at awkward angles as if they had been crushed. Just behind the already short girl, a mountain of a man clad in gleaming bronze armor like the Spartans stood resolute. He held a massive circular shield in his left hand which covered the entire left-hand side of his body from his shins to his bicep. The shield itself depicted a pair of black silhouettes of a man with sword and shield facing down a Beowolf.

The two stragglers who slouched with their hands on their knees with impaired breathing struggled to muster a sentence. "It- It's not fair," the one to the left said between breaths. He was clad in ornate gray clothing with a katana at his hip. "I mean, c'mon, she's a rabbit, that makes sense. But _him_ being _fine_?"

"H-his Semblance," was all the other boy, a taller Faunus with snow-white hair and wolf ears, could respond with as a man catching his breath could achieve.

"Ummmm….what?" Ruby managed to ask through the ball of confusion sitting in the room like a pool of mud, the rapid-fire change of events completely disabled her ability to think straight.

As if to answer any unasked questions, and resolve any unnecessary doubt, the headmaster of Beacon Academy, none other than Professor Ozpin came strolling into the crowded training room.

"Good morning everyone. I'm sure there are plenty of answers to the mounting pile of questions, but they must wait. However, with everyone meeting their new chaperons, I need all of you to go through with your examinations." Ozpin would have left that to hang in the air, but the confusion in one student peaked.

"Examinations?" Jaune nervously spoke up from the back of the collected students, the blonde unsettled by the sudden presentation of a test.

Ozpin gave no response other than a knowing grin, and to take a sip from his ever present cup of coffee. With but a slight look of remorse at the cup of coffee in the Headmaster's hand, the titan of a man clad in bronze stepped forward. The '_gulp_' was audible throughout the entire room as all the members of Teams RWBY, JNPR, and REPR had to tilt their heads back to look him in the eye.

"Indeed, examinations," his voice was deep and authoritative, almost beyond belief for a teenager. "My name is Leonidas Rosso, leader of Team BLWK. As you can guess, these are my teammates behind me," he continued, sweeping his right arm out to encompass the three older teens still in the threshold of the door. "Kazue-" the rabbit-eared girl gave a slight nod, "Alastair-" the young man in gray waved casually. "And last but not least, Abel." The white-haired wolf Faunus gave everyone a slight bow as he was introduced. "We are here to help you all on your journey to becoming successful Hunters and Huntresses. As such we must know what you are capable of. In order to do so, I have come up with a challenge for you all."

The three younger teams stirred restlessly as Leonidas took pause to let his words sink in. Seeing that his words held the desired effect, Leonidas gave them all a grin and continued.

"A hunting expedition into the Emerald Forest," he elaborated, a quiet '_whoop_' echoing from Yang and Ruby. "During which you must all demonstrate your abilities as Hunters-in-training. Much like Team RWBY and JNPR's Initiation, with the exception that instead of having to acquire relics, you must all make at least one notable kill."

The reactions were mixed as the news sank in among the twelve teens. Jaune noticeably paled as he fought the urge to whimper. Pyrrha turned her worried gaze to her leader, concern glimmering in the emerald depths of her eyes. Nora's face broke into an even wider grin, if it was possible, as she bounced in place next to Lie Ren, who looked stoic as ever.

Team RWBY, on the other hand, all felt fairly confident. Ruby and Yang shared a high-five. Weiss gave a self-assured smirk as she began planning what they should hunt. Blake gave no discernable reaction other than the almost imperceptible twitch of her bow, though no one seemed to notice.

Standing near the forefront of the three teams, the members of REPR gave no visual indications of trepidation, nor confidence. Aside from Melania shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and Roan crossing his arms, they reacted as if this was normal. In truth, this wasn't actually too far outside of their comfort zone. That is, minus one fairly important detail, to a certain mask-wearing Hunter-in-training's immense despair: he had never actually fought a creature of Grimm before.

"Glad to see everyone is up for it," Leonidas smiled at the group of teens confidently. "Everyone shall meet at the launch pads near the Emerald Forest in one hour. Until then, you are free to do as you will," with that the bronze colossus nodded at the group and turned on his heel, walking toward Professor Ozpin.

"I look forward to seeing how you all work together," Ozpin remarked to the three younger teams, turning and leaving the hall with Leonidas in tow.

An uneasy quiet fell over the room as Team BLWK gave everyone a quick nod and left, with the remaining students giving the shrinking backs of their chaperons confused expressions.

Yang was, as usual, the first to speak up, "So, that was a thing."

* * *

A/N: Man, that chapter was waaaay longer than I thought it was going to be. I'd like to apologize for the end here, because it got really impersonal due to the fact we had 17 characters, including established canon characters as well as 8 OCs in the mix. It simply would have been to costly to pull everyone's physical and emotional reaction to each event as they unfolded.

That being said, however, I really hope you enjoyed our first collaborated chapter. That's right, Relks and I _literally _wrote this one at the same time. We found a program that lets us open the same document over the net and both can edit it at the same exact time. We wrote his together, each doing dialogue and the descriptive text in unison. You'll see some paragraphs that I wrote in his, and some paragraphs that he wrote in mine. Although for the most part, we've both edited it so that each is unique from the other.

Thanks again for reading,  
See you on the other side~


	5. Don't Fear the Reaper

**Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own RWBY. The series and affiliated copyrights go to Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth.**

* * *

For the next minute after Professor Ozpin and Team BLWK's departure, an awkward silence clogged the air, practically dangling from the ceiling by wax chains. No one deigned it their responsibility to break the silence, then the nervous flicker of eyes took place as the young hunters looked to each other for some kind of answer. A low rumbling sound sprouted from somewhere in the room and Roan started groaning in protest, a hand clutching his abdomen.

"Yo, boss! Can we get some damn breakfast now?!" the crimson-haired noble whined.

Natasha was about to deny his request, before an equally intrusive growl emanated from her stomach. With a bead of sweat dripping down her chin and a slight flush to her cheeks, she realized how harsh it would be not to let the team, herself included, enjoy a much needed breakfast. "Fine fine, we should hurry though." She started leading her teammates through the open door and to the cafeteria before she stopped after only two steps. Natasha spun on her heel and addressed the members of RWBY and JNPR. "How rude of me, would anyone else like to join us?" she asked with a smile and utmost sincerity.

A certain red hood-wearing teen flashed a smirk and almost spoke, but was interrupted by a fist shooting into the air accompanied by a squeal of joy. "OH! I vote pancakes!" Nora Valkyrie said as she trotted toward the door with the ever-stoic Lie Ren in tow.

The pink-loving teen's enthusiasm elicited a chuckle from her teammates, lightening the mood a bit in the process. Pyrrha cracked a smile and answered, "That sounds nice. Though I'm a tad burnt out on pancakes."

"Agreed.." Jaune complied with an awkward smile. "Not having syrup didn't make things any easier." The sword-and-shield duo laughed at the memory of Nora practically drinking every drop last time.

Roan interrupted the happy scene as his impatience peaked, "I don't give a shit what we eat, but let's go!"

An audible sigh was the only warning seconds before Melania quickly laced her arm behind Roan's neck and clamped pressure down into a headlock, yanking him down with his face next to her hip, "Will it kill you to be quiet for five minutes, you insufferable braggard?"

_Well, someone needs their coffee in the morning_, Blake thought to herself as she saw Melania literally drag Roan, kicking and screaming, along behind her.

* * *

The normally packed cafeteria which was capable of housing every student in Beacon, now only held around fifty students. Vlad took a seat as far away from anyone he didn't know as possible, at the end of one of the long tables in the furthermost corner of the massive room. He awkwardly poked at his salad with a fork as he tried to ignore the suspicious looks from the students who thought themselves sneaky as they cast their gaze over their shoulders. But the thought was there, and it weighed heavily on his mind.

Roan's heavy footfalls sounded closer until finally halting next to Vlad before the brusque noble settled down next to the youngest Reaper, "Don't let it get to ya." Stacked haphazardly on his plate was a pair of breakfast sandwiches, a less-than-healthy amount of bacon on each along with fried egg and a small handful of cheese, all contained between two pieces of toast each. Clutched in the crimson-haired ruffian's right hand was a bottle of vitamin water, probably the healthiest thing on his breakfast menu.

"Yeah yeah, I know. It's not easy, alright?" Vlad responded, his head slouching forward a bit as he tried to resume his zen. _Easy for you to say_, he thought, instantly regretting it. He found himself sometimes becoming spiteful which was one of his most hated emotions after seeing it in so many others.

"Relax, Vlad. If they're giving you the worried look, wait till they get a load of me," Roan flashed his only male teammate a wicked grin and gave a wink, trying to lighten the gloomy scythe-wielder's spirits. "I'll make enough of a scene for both of us."

Natasha was next to find her way to the table, sitting across from Vlad. Looking over the young Reaper with a critical eye, then looking over her shoulder to the rest of the cafeteria, an edge of doubt dug its way into her mind. "Are you sure you want to eat here Vlad? You can go back to the dorm if you want."

"He's fine. We keep avoiding everyone and it'll give the wrong impression," Roan said, gently bumping shoulders with Vlad. "Wouldn't wanna do that, especially with that peppy girl in the red hood, eh, Vladdy?"

The black-and-blue themed teen closed her eyes and rubbed her temples to stop herself from calling Roan out on his misunderstanding. "That's not the problem," she whispered before she opened her eyes and gave Roan a 'you have no idea what you're talking about' kind of look. "He can't _eat_ if he's wearing a _mask_, remember?" As she finished, she pointed over her shoulder with her thumb to the other students.

"Oh...right," Roan chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Well, if that's the problem he can take it off, or half-off, or whatever, and if they start to bother him I'll run 'em off."

"Says the famous words of an idiot," Melania chimed in tersely as she sat down next to Natasha. Resting on her plate was a small pile of scrambled eggs along with a piece of wheat toast and an apple, a glass of milk in her hand. "We don't want to make a bad first impression. You chasing people with that bastardization of technology you call a weapon will certainly do just that."

Vlad couldn't help but laugh as the three of them covered for him. "Guys, guys, I'll be fine. I just need a few minutes," he offered with a smile in spite of the mask.

Roan gave Vlad a small smile at the boy's bravery, then turned his head to notice his leader's plate, "Oh…. Oh that's…. Bwahahahaha!" The crimson haired noble fell backwards off the bench, clutching his gut while laughing so hard that his face was beginning to match his hair. The remaining three members of Team REPR shared a look of confusion before they all glanced down at Natasha's plate, and four reactions took place.

A small chuckle escaped Vlad's throat as he realized just what Roan was laughing at. Melania felt the corner of her mouth begin to pull into a smirk of humor before she stopped it, and Natasha's face darkened to almost match the tone of the many meaty foods on her plate.

"She's trying so hard to keep her little secret, but she gets that for breakfast!" Roan gasped out between bouts of laughter, tears forming in his eyes. Atop the leader of Team REPR's plate sat no less than five strips of bacon, three sausage links that had already been cut into equally sized bites, a breakfast cut pork chop that Natasha had just started to cut, scrambled eggs piled neatly into one corner of the plate, a slice of ham also already cut into equal portions, and lastly a tall cup of vegetable and fruit juice next to the plate.

"What's going on?" Ruby asked as she and the others approached, a smile on each of their faces, with the exception of Weiss, as they watched the scene unfold.

"I think she's about to go cannibal on him," Yang quipped as she saw the furious expression on Natasha's face. For a moment, she thought she heard a growl emanate from the tall girl, but blamed that on her imagination.

Team RWBY took their seats and Ruby realized that Vlad was sitting in the cafeteria, with food in front of him, and he was still wearing his mask. "Um.. Vlad? How are you going to eat with a mask?"

Vlad stopped his nervous spinning of the fork in his hand as he heard his name, "Huh? Oh, I'm not going to wear it. I'm just working up the nerve, you could say."

Team JNPR quickly arrived after Team RWBY and they took their seats further down the line, one Nora Valkyrie having heard Vlad was taking off his mask. She practically dropped her plate stacked high with pancakes onto the table, a small squee of delight building in her throat.

"Finally," the hyperactive hammer-user murmured as she sat next to her lifelong friend Lie Ren, eyes glued to the face of Vladimir Ebon.

Thoughts of panic and dismay flashed through Natasha's mind, and she wanted to urge Vlad not to take his mask off in front of so many people, but she trusted him to know his limits. "Don't overdo it, if you feel you must, put it back on as quickly as you can," she advised, her voice conveying nothing but support.

The true meaning of her words would escape the prying ears of both of the other teams, but Vlad and his teammates knew with absolute certainty what would happen should he _not_ put the mask back on. Vlad cleared his mind and tried to only focus on his own world: he was in the cafeteria, he was there to eat breakfast, and he wasn't there to pry into the minds of others.

With slow, deliberate motions, he took off his hood and let it hang behind his head, showing his mid-length black hair and the leather strap holding the mask on his head. Neither he nor his comrades paid any mind to the fact that all eight of the others at the table were watching with curiosity in their eyes. Vlad closed his eyes and slid the mask up and off his head, revealing the massive scar taking up much of the left half of his face. Even with his eyes closed, the flood of thoughts, emotions, ideals and senses from everyone in the room smashed into his mental barriers.

Vlad did not wear the mask to hide his identity, to keep up an image, or for any other selfish reasons. He was given the specially made mask by Ozpin to help him keep his Semblance in check, to make sure his mind wasn't overloaded with the sheer amount of information pumped out by people's Aura that he, and he alone could read. The mask was forged with a specialized Dust used for absorbing Aura, halting it from ever reaching his senses. While wearing the mask, he could not see people's colors, could not read their thoughts, and could not feel their emotions. But when he wasn't wearing it, he got everything, no filter.

He sat the mask on the table next to his plate, which made a hollow clanking sound almost like pottery, and slightly cringed from the sudden waves of Aura in his mind. Across from him, Natasha watched very closely, counting the seconds. Her calculated thoughts aimed directly at him didn't escape his own mind, and he held up a hand as his expression eased and he calmed himself down. "It's alright, I'm fine."

Now, since he paid attention to Natasha's color, he caught wind of the slack-jawed stares from Ruby, Jaune, and Nora. Their colors fluctuated wildly as the remainder of the two teams finally looked at Vlad's face. Most surprised was Nora.

"So, he's not a Grimm in hiding after all," her words came quietly across the table. Laughter burst out of Roan, his own red aura flaring and flickering paler with mirth in the corner of Vlad's sight.

Jaune was flabbergasted that one of the most imposing members of Team REPR was so young. He couldn't have been older than Ruby herself, and she had been advanced two years to get into Beacon. Seeing the young man, closer to being a boy in comparison to the others, eating calmly as dozens of people's eyes widened at the revelation that yet another one of Beacon's new recruits was almost still a child was simply astounding.

_'He's so young, how'd he get in?'_

_'What's with the scar?'_

_'What a freak…'_

_'Those are some _seriously_ blue eyes.'_

_'I wonder if-'_

_Stop thinking about it, stop listening, it's not your business…_ Vlad thought in an attempt to close off his senses. Without realising it, his expression hardened again, and he looked flustered. Roan elbowed him and opened up his perception again.

_'Calm down, just focus on this table,'_ came Roan's thoughts as if Vlad imagined it. He looked up to see both Melania and Natasha giving him supportive smiles, which was very uncharacteristic of the former. With a little guilt in the act, Vlad focused solely on the colors and thoughts of his team to block out everyone else.

Ruby watched Vlad's disposition sour and he looked almost pained from.. _something_. "Are you alright Vlad?" she asked. He gave no indication of a response, or if he even heard her. "Is he okay?" the now concerned Ruby asked as she turned her attention to his teammates.

"Don't mind him. Vladdy's just trying to be a polite little telepath," Roan quipped quickly, gaining a momentary glare from Melania as the crimson-haired noble spilled the beans. _'Relax, Vlad, I'm an ass, remember? It's not like they'll believe me.'_

To his immense surprise, Roan's suggestion worked: Vlad stopped listening to and watching the Auras of the curious students in the massive room. He _was_ only focusing on the three of them, but there was a problem. Even if he didn't pay any mind to the other thoughts and emotions floating in the room, there still wasn't a filter, and recognizing all of it was taking its toll on Vlad's body. He started getting dizzy and he dropped his fork onto his plate, propping his limp head on his hand.

"I'm not sure this was a good idea.." he whispered as he felt something wet on his lip. His mind was starting to drift and he didn't pay attention to it, there were so many other sensations demanding his attention.

"Vlad, put it back on," Natasha advised, the stern edge of her voice started coming through.

"What?" he asked, the meaning of her words lost to him. Natasha's thought process hit him just before the words actually came, and in his state, it only succeeded in confusing him. Vlad's mind jumped to a strange coppery taste in his mouth, and he brought his hand to his lips and wiped it away. With his thoughts in a state of disarray, the sight of his hand coming back with a splash of red on it confused him. His eyes quickly widened as he finally came to his senses.

_Put it back on, NOW!_ Vlad wasn't even sure which of the three the thought came from, but the gears clicked, and in deft motions, he quickly slid the mask over his face, secured the strap behind his head - all while standing up and leaving the table - and made a break for the door. His footsteps were wobbly and uncoordinated as he threw the hood back over his head, nearly colliding with the doorframe while doing so.

Roan hopped to his feet and over the table with a deftness that shocked all seated, his heavy boots rattling the eating surface as he vaulted over Team JNPR and made for the door.

_What's he doing?_ All of Teams RWBY and JNPR wondered together as Roan shoved his way past an awestruck first year and came up to Vlad's side.

"Easy now," he advised his younger comrade, catching Vlad's unstable stance and tossing the young boy's left arm over his shoulders. "Let's get you somewhere less… well, less, shall we?"

"Did he actually speak… properly?" Melania flabbergasted, blinking as Roan and Vlad left the cafeteria. _Even when Vlad had his first bad reaction when we all met, Roan still spoke like some outlandish oaf_. "We've gotta go," the brunette blade-whip user added quickly, downing her milk in a single swift gulp as she rose to her feet and jogged after. Without a word, Natasha practically mirrored her teammate and bounded after the rest of her comrades. In less than a minute, all of Team REPR jumped up from the table, leaving their food there, and bolted after the flustered Vladimir.

"That didn't seem good," Pyrrha commented as her thoughts finally caught up with the rapid change in the situation.

Melania's head poked back in quickly, locking onto the two still-seated teams, "Natasha says we'll see you at the cliff!" In a flash she was gone again, before anyone could even think of asking what had happened.

The only evidence of the entire episode happening was a few splattered specks of red on the table where Vladimir was sitting.

* * *

A/N: Not much to say about this one, other than how much I've been wanting to do a more elaborated scene ending in a telepathically-induced nosebleed.

See you on the other side~


End file.
